She was a piece of poetry
Light and graceful on her feet,
Her hair red and gold like the sun,
Hearing her laughter would make anyone smile.
She was the embodiment of freedom.
But that's why they tried to chain her,
Shackles around her wrists,
A birdcage of a house,
She was trapped by the ring you put on her finger.
You wanted people to see
To know how you tamed her.
The wild, crazy and free girl, was captured!
But just like the light, dancing through the leaves,
She wasn't somthing you could hold onto
If you looked too close she would dissappear, before you could catch up.
She was not a piece of art to hang up on the wall,
She was not some exotic pet you bought,
She was a person, who was free.
Yes, she was like poetry.
She couldn't be captured,
She was the most beautiful stanza,
She was everything in the world that made you think of light, summer, and being happy,
And she didn't know that others saw her that way.
She was a piece of poetry, not yet finished, but whole nun the less.
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SaggisticaShe was poetry. In all of her movements, the way light hit her skin, and even the way she cried silently. She was poetry in its finest form, but people don't understand that it's for all to look at, but only them to claim as their own.
